


You.

by ughdotcom



Series: Either like really deep or complete shit IDK [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Don't copy to another site, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Other, POV Outsider, POV Second Person, Polyamory, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:16:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughdotcom/pseuds/ughdotcom
Summary: The gallery is stunning. The portraits are more realistic than anything you’ve ever seen painted. In the middle stand three, the main features of the exhibit, as long as you don’t look too closely.---You walk into a gallery knowing nothing about it. You walk out still knowing nothing about it, but knowing so much more about yourself
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders (past), Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Original Character/Original Character/Original Character/Original Character/Original Character
Series: Either like really deep or complete shit IDK [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644253
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	You.

The gallery is stunning. The portraits are more realistic than anything you’ve ever seen painted. In the middle stand three, the main features of the exhibit, as long as you don’t look too closely.

The one in the middle is a dancer. His smile seems to light up the room. You can see the way his red skirt flows with his movement, see where his gold brown hairs fall out of place. You can almost hear the music he’s dancing to, an exciting, maybe latin, tune. You admire the way that you can see the dust he’s kicking up. He seems to move.

The one on the right also has a gigantic smile. This one is a baker, making cookies. The same way that that dancer’s clothes are stylish and extravagant, his are simple and pretty in a comfortable way. He’s wearing a blue dress, and a grey cat apron. His glasses are round, with gold rims, and you can see someone reflected in them, but you can’t tell who.

The one on the left looks less happy than the others, but you know something about that smile. It’s the smile of someone who doesn’t grin, but is also truly happy. He sits on a chair in a library, a book in his lap. He has earbuds in. You can see the book’s title, and it’s  _ Alice in Wonderland _ . An odd choice for a person that seems so serious, but that smile.  _ Alice in Wonderland _ fit that smile so well. You love this.   
  


Honestly, you know nothing about where you are, or why. You ducked in here to get out of the rain. But you love it in here. The art is pristine and beautiful. But because you don’t know anything, you have to listen.

That man in the corner is the artist. He doesn’t look that part, but he is. Every person in these paintings means something to him. Like the one of someone at a pride parade holding up the nonbinary flag and the rainbow one? That’s his sibling. The one of the man with bright blond hair performing a magic act? That’s his ex boyfriend, the one he was better off as friends with.

There’s another room too. You missed it when you narrowly avoided the storm, but this room is called ‘imagery’, it’s on a sign painted in curling script. The other one is past a corner, is ‘metaphors’. It’s where the artist is going now.

You follow him.

The first painting in the metaphors room is a self portrait. It’s of a female. Not really. It’s of a boy trapped in a girl’s body. It’s of the artist. But then you move and it takes all you have not to gasp. It shows the artist now, his extravagant makeup, his short but not too short hair with the purple streaks, his eyes no longer obscured, but his green/purple heterochromia in full view.

You wonder what each painting means to him. They are all so vibrant and loud, so different from his emo look.

Three men come from behind you, but you’re tucked into a corner and they don’t see you. With a jolt a shock you realize that they’re the people from the three main paintings.

“Virgil!” the dancer says, his voice sing-songy, and the artist, Virgil, spins around, and relaxes when he see who it is.

“Hey guys.”

“Hello, love.” the reader presses a kiss to Virgil’s lips. It’s soft, gentle, chaste, but it embodies something wholly beautiful and pure.

“Hey, stormcloud.” The baker pecks Virgil’s cheek and giggles, which makes him smile, the same smile the reader has in his painting.

“My beautiful nightmare.” the dancer twirls Virgil around and dips him, pressing into a passionate, but chaste, kiss.

You realize that you should be leaving, this is something private, and you don’t even know who these people are, but you can’t. Not only do you want to see their relationship, how pure and soft it is, but if you leave the corner you’re in they’ll see you.

Virgil gets down on one knee and you know that you shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t be here. But you’re frozen. So you watch.

“Roman. Patton. Logan.” the dancer, the baker, and the reader gasp in order. “You guys are the loves of my life. Roman, you appeared to me when I was going through a hard time. When I left the theater that day, I was going to slit my wrists. But then you were singing. You didn’t have to be, but you were singing ‘You Will Be Found’. And I sat on a piece of the set and just listened. You saved my life. And you keep saving it, with your voice and kindness, every single day.”

You really shouldn’t be here.

“Patton, you also appeared at a low point. I was in the library, on the computer, writing Roman my suicide note. You sat next to me and handed me a cookie. When I asked why you said that I looked sad, and like I needed it. You got me into a discussion about cats. When you asked what I was doing, I bullshitted an excuse that I had to print something for work. When you left, I deleted my letter and went home to tell Roman how much I loved him.”

You’re debating ways to leave now.

“Logan, you didn’t come to me when I wanted to kill myself. You came on one of my rare good days. I was in the library again, the historical section. You were sorting books. I was on the floor scribbling in my notebook. You asked what I was writing, and I joked that it was a suicide note. You scrunched up your face adorably and started listing reasons I shouldn’t kill myself.”

If you can’t find a way to leave you are going to scream.

“All three of you helped save my life. And I’m so glad, because you guys are the loves of my life. So, even though we can’t get legally married, will you guys be my husbands?”

They all cry and nod and the four hug and kiss and leave through a back door. You slip out of the gallery, pulling out your phone to call some people.

“Hey!” She answers the phone in her cheery voice, and you’re suddenly so happy that the rain delayed you getting to where you were going to kill yourself.

“Hey, Marie. Can you put Adrien, K, and Joseph on too?”

The does so. Adrien says your name with that adorable confused quirk in eir voice, K says nothing, but a friendly nothing, and Joseph says “hello” in his smile voice.

“Hey guys. I was wondering” you take a deep breath “that offer you had. You join your relationship. Is it still open?”

Their responses are all affirmative and happy, and you grin. Maybe life isn’t all bad. You’re so glad for the rain, and you’re so glad for the gallery, and the men you’ll never know more about.


End file.
